Chapter 12
12
TESSA
Mom: Ethan is coming to help you set up the tree.
I stifled a groan. Working with Ethan would probably be less efficient than working alone. He would probably spend the whole time cracking jokes.
Tessa: That’s really not necessary. I’m sure I can do it on my own.
I considered calling Nora to tell her Ethan could stay home, but Mom’s next text came quickly.
Mom: Oh, stop. Grant went to a lot of effort to help me out with filling my missing spots. I don’t want to be rude now.
My mind wandered to Grant, not sure what role he played in Mom’s plans. It didn’t really matter. He’d looked so good up on that ladder the other night. He had one of those coats that was somehow warm without requiring four inches of floof. Expensive shit no teacher could afford, but damn if it hadn’t looked good on him. He still had the sexy dark beard, and if I’d thought it looked good on Thanksgiving, it’d looked even better paired with a knit hat.
I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed, though. Kelly Patterson had appeared equally enamored of Grant’s strong frame, based on how she was looking him up and down while he strung the lights. I’d overheard Agatha tell Mom her plan to set up Kelly and Grant. The very idea made jealousy rage in my stomach, but I bit down on my lip and said nothing. Jealousy might not have been in the rules, but it may as well have been.
And besides, telling the other when we wanted to date someone else was in the rules, so I needed to put Kelly out of my head until Grant told me otherwise.
When I suggested exposure therapy for our Baader Meinhof, I’d known it wouldn’t work, but I’d never anticipated how much worse this Baader Meinhof could get. I saw reminders of Grant everywhere, and instead of the lusty, too bad we got interrupted thoughts I had before, now I was having alarming he would laugh at that and wish I could see him thoughts. I was suddenly obsessing over the idea of finding a way to leverage the sex visits we’d agreed to into some sort of date where we got to spend more time together—in the privacy of my home, of course. And while this was not against any of the rules we’d agreed upon, it was not in the spirit of the goal Grant had set forth—don’t catch feelings.
Tossing the phone down onto the coffee table, I pushed myself up off the couch to change into layers. It was colder tonight than it’d been a couple days ago when Rodney and I decorated the park. Tonight, though, a lot of the work could be done inside City Hall, so if my clothes were too warm, I’d roast.
A half hour later, I was at City Hall, the key Mom had given me clutched in one palm, heading toward the Council Chambers. The room was dark—what few people remained working at five in the evening weren’t spending their time in the chambers, but the closet I needed was tucked away behind the long table where councilmen and women sat.
A trail of lights illuminated as I walked down the center aisle, lighting up that row but leaving the rest of the room in darkness. I didn’t mind the dark, though. There were no ghosts in City Hall, just years of memories of helping my mom set up the tree, same as I was scheduled to this evening. It was a thing we used to do together, but since she’d become the committee chairperson she spent the set-up moving from station to station, checking on the work.
I slipped behind the faux-wood wall at the back of the chambers. This hidden hall led to the caucus room, but there was also a fair-sized closet attached. Perhaps the closet had once held the temporary chairs for the room, but Bridgeport had put in permanent seating a decade earlier, and the room had held holiday decor ever since.
I’d just unlocked the closet when I heard a bang behind me. “Ethan?” I yelled. “I’m back here.” He didn’t reply, but I heard footsteps approaching.
“Tess?” It wasn’t Ethan’s voice, but I recognized it immediately, and my heart jumped into my throat. I peeked back out of the closet. Grant’s lips tilted up on one side. “I didn’t know where you were,” he said with a dry little snort that resembled an airy laugh.
“What are you doing here? Is Ethan okay?”
He nodded, his eyes never wavering from mine. “Ethan’s fine. He’s helping Kelly string lights somewhere.”
My brow raised. I couldn’t envision my mother letting Grant out of his set-up with Kelly easily. “And my mom was okay with you helping me here?”
His brow furrowed and he stepped closer, lowering his voice though we were completely alone. “Why wouldn’t she be? I thought not telling her was one of our rules. Is it not?”
My eyes widened meaningfully. “No—I mean, yes, of course that’s still a rule. I just thought she wanted you working with Kelly.”
He shrugged, stepping closer again. “Well, I wanted to work here.”
I inhaled deeply. In my imagination, he’d ended that sentence with the two words I wanted to hear most— with you . But, in reality, he hadn’t. I knew my feelings were spiraling out of control, but it was foolish to assume Grant’s were. Perhaps he’d wanted the only job that kept him mostly indoors on this miserably cold evening. Perhaps he’d actually gotten me out of his system. How was I supposed to know? “Let me show you what we have to put together.” I nodded toward the closet behind me, then held the door open so we could both enter. “Here’s the box with the sleigh, and here are the presents. There are twelve—three for each side of the tree.”
“Trees are round,” he replied, but he wasn’t looking at the supplies I was pointing to. Instead, he was turning slowly, surveying the corners of the closet as if spiders might rain down on us.
My eyes followed his, but I saw nothing. “Trees are round, but if you’re not a robot, you can think of them as having four viewing sides. Oh my God, what the fuck are you looking for?” I snapped.
His gaze fell back to my face, and he didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “Cameras,” he replied, “but I don’t see any.”
I shook my head, growing exasperated. “There aren’t cameras in the City Hall closet. Were you planning on stealing things?”
“Nothing you won’t freely give.”
My nose scrunched as I looked up at him. “Was that supposed to be a pickup line?”
“You’re too smart for pickup lines, but I respect the rule that’s most important to you. I respect your privacy.” Grant grinned. “That said, there are no cameras, so I’m going to kiss you.” His lips were upon mine in an instant, soft and tender, his hand buried in the hair at the back of my head.
“Grant,” I moaned into his mouth, and he broke off the kiss, his head tilting as he looked between my eyes.
“Grant, stop or Grant, more?” he asked.
It was an impossible question, and the answer that popped out was entirely honest. “Both.”
One of his dark brows quirked high on his forehead. “I’m not sure how to do both, Tess.”
I inhaled deeply, steadying myself. “I want…more—” I used his word delicately, not wanting him to misunderstand me. Whether or not I secretly yearned for much, much more was not a topic for the City Hall closet. “—but this has always been my mom’s favorite job. If we’re behind schedule, she’ll come looking to see why.”
He nodded as if this were a completely normal and acceptable explanation, and maybe it was in acquaintances-with-benefits situations. I wasn’t sure. This was definitely a first for me. “We’ll work fast,” he said, the words coming out with that same simple, sexy finality Grant so often used. I always liked how sure of himself he was. I don’t think I ever felt that in my own life. He dragged his thumb along my lower lip, then chased the touch with a kiss that was long and lingering. I leaned into that kiss, letting my body melt into his.
The seats in the chamber were built-in, but there was space in the back for displays and standing room, so we dragged all the materials to that open space and began working. “We should do the sleigh first. We can start it inside, but we have to finish it out there because it’s too big to fit through the doors. I’ll show you where to stop.”
“How many times have you done this?” he asked as we pulled the pieces out of their box and laid them in front of us.
“The decor under the tree? Since I was fifteen. I did it with my mom until she became chairwoman.” I pointed to the first set of attachments. “Clip these together like this.” Grant watched, then began mirroring my actions. “Before this, we used to do ornaments on the park trees.”
“Not on the big tree?”
I laughed. “No. That has to be done on a cherry-picker. Men are always fighting for that job. This job was hanging three or four tied balls from the bottom of each tree. It took forever and you had to walk the whole damn town. It was a shit job. Newbies get it now.”
“I’m a newbie.”
“True,” I agreed, “but you’re a tall man, so it makes sense to have you stringing lights.
We lifted up the first two sides of the sleigh and propped them against the wall, then repeated the process with the other side. “Is stringing lights odious?”
“I don’t know. What did you think?” I asked with a shrug.
Grant chuckled. “It was pretty terrible the way I was doing it, but once you came along and told me what to do it went by pretty quickly.”
Rather than look up at him, I focused my attention on straightening the lights that lined the runners of the sleigh. “And working with Kelly was probably fun.”
“Kelly’s nice,” he agreed simply.
I stopped what I was doing, looking up at him seriously as a question popped into my head. “How did you end up working here with me? I assumed my mom would never move you, since your mom wanted you paired up with Kelly.”
“My mom wanted me paired up with Kelly?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“I mean, my mom mentioned something a while back. She gave me Kelly’s info, but I never got around to calling her.”
I stood, pulling on my coat, and Grant did the same. “Well, since you didn’t make it happen, now I guess your mom is.”
He sighed. “What does it say about you if everyone is always trying to set you up?”
There were worse things, I figured. “What does it say about you if no one is trying to set you up?”
Grant stepped closer to me as if he might reach out and pull me into his body, but he bumped into one half of the sleigh and then seemed to remember where he was and what he was doing. Looking at me seriously he said, “Maybe it means they trust your judgment and your ability to find someone on your own.”
I lifted my half of the sleigh. “That seems wildly optimistic, Grant,” I replied. “Grab your half. We need to go assemble this bitch.”
Outside, we made quick work of putting together the sleigh and getting the lights hooked in and working. I liked spending time with Grant, but even if I hadn’t I would’ve appreciated how efficiently he worked. It had taken me years to put these decorations together with half the speed he had on day one.
“Tess, Ethan!” I didn’t have to turn around to recognize my mother’s voice, and perhaps Grant knew her voice as well, because he kept his head down, finishing the sleigh’s connections. “This looks great, you two,” Mom said as she got close. “Ethan, I can’t thank you enough for helping—oh!” I glanced back to see Grant now looking up, smiling that big fake smile he tended to use right before he said something stupid.
“Did Grant tell you he hurt his back?” I asked before he could speak.
Mom’s eyes went wide. “No, he didn’t. Did you do it tonight? Are you okay?”
I didn’t give him time to answer. He wasn’t that good a liar. “Night before last, up on the ladder stringing lights. Can you believe it?”
“It’s just a tweak,” Grant added unhelpfully.
I looked at him disapprovingly. “But didn’t you say it hurts when you twist?”
“It does,” he conceded, looking down, probably because he was uncomfortable lying to my mother. I didn’t care. His guilt was selling my lie.
“I’m relieved he came to help me. It wouldn’t be good to have him twisting and turning and reaching to attach lights, you know?” I asked.
Mom nodded. “Yes, I’m glad you were cautious, Grant. We don’t want you hurt,” she agreed.
“Thanks. Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier,” Grant said.
“Oh my God, it was like pulling teeth to get it out of him earlier.” I shook my head. “You know how men are.” My dad did this kind of shit all the time, so I was sure the statement would land.
“God, yes,” Mom said, rolling her eyes. “Grant, take care of yourself, and Tess, you watch him and be sure he does, okay?”
“Yes ma’am,” Grant said.
“We’re just going in to assemble the presents. You want to help?” I offered. Mom had always enjoyed preparing the light-up presents.
Mom smiled. “Wish I could, but they need me to check on the folks at the park. I think they need zip ties.”
“Okay. It was good to see you, Mom.”
“You too, sweetheart. Grant, don’t push too hard. Listen to your body.”
“I will. Thanks, Juliet.”
The sleigh lit up in dazzling white light as Mom walked away. “Time for the presents,” I said, and Grant nodded, but remained quiet as we walked back inside. He was silent all the way to the chambers, and despite the fact that we’d already pulled out all the light-up presents, I continued to walk until we reached the closet behind the chambers. All I wanted was to talk, but he’d gotten in my head about the cameras, and I didn’t want to be overheard. “Hey,” I said as the door snicked shut behind us. “Are you upset I lied about your back?”
He stalked forward until I was pinned between his body and a stack of plastic bins. “You’re brilliant, Tessa.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “High praise from the doctor who skipped eighth grade.”
“It was fifth grade, and you were amazing out there.”
“If lying to my mom was a sign of intelligence, I would’ve had a Nobel prize by the time I was fourteen.”
He leaned closer until his entire body touched mine. “I never would’ve come up with a lie. Not fast enough to be believable. Do you know that?”
I laughed. “Did I just meet you yesterday? Of course I knew that.”
“That’s what I like about you,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss my collarbone gently.
My breath caught, but still I pushed out the dry retort, determined to keep us out of the dangerous territory where I might tell Grant just how many times a day I thought about him. “That I can come up with lies to cover your ass?”
His lips fell to my skin again, but this time he dragged them along the entire length of my collarbone then kissed his way up my neck. “You’re smart and funny and beautiful and dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” I stammered as he kissed my jaw, just below my ear.
“Dangerous,” he confirmed, sliding his lips across my cheek until they caught mine and then sampling first the top then bottom. The process was so delicate I could barely move. When he spoke again his words were quiet enough someone else might’ve missed them, but in that moment I was completely attuned to Grant. “You make me forget why I agreed to these rules in the first place.”
He hitched his hand under one thigh, guiding me until I wrapped my leg around him—same as I had when we’d snuck away during the wedding, though this time I had pants—and I felt the long press of his erection against me. Having sex in this closet was a terrible idea, but all logic seemed to go out the window once my body was pressed to Grant Dupree. “You agreed to the rules because they’re fun,” I said, canting my hips to rub wantonly against him.
“Fun when I’m with you, torture when I’m alone,” he muttered, thrusting in reply. I gasped. “This closet breaks your rules. Tell me you’ll come to my house after this.”
“I will,” I replied breathily.
“Good,” he confirmed, lowering my leg from around his hip and turning me to face the other direction before slipping a hand into my pants. My breath caught as he touched me.
“I thought we were waiting till your house?” I asked, barely able to get enough air.
“We are, but this is fast and we’ll both like it.” He was already moving, his fingers making the slow, edging strokes I liked best, but he paused to say, “Give me your hand. I want you to teach me what you like.”
“I—I think you already know what I like,” I stammered.
His finger swiped over my clit, not stopping long, and I yearned for more. “I try to pay attention to what you like,” he replied, and there was a scientific quality to his voice that would’ve been charming had I not been thinking about his request. “But that’s not as good as being taught. I want you to teach me.”
I’d already fucked Grant up against a wall and bent over my living room sofa, but neither of those positions felt a fraction as vulnerable as the moment I slid my hand into my panties and let our fingers twine. He sighed, the sound coming out as a contented hum not unlike the noise he made each time he was seated fully inside me.
I began the familiar route toward orgasm, balanced precariously between finding his hard body behind me sexy and feeling self-conscious about masturbating in front of another person. It was surprisingly easy to feel comfortable with Grant, though. I didn’t know if it was because I’d known him for years or if it were just the man himself, but I felt comfortable with Grant in a way I rarely did with other men.
“Circle the clit until your breath comes quickly,” he said, and though the words sounded like a command, I immediately recognized he was narrating my actions. “And then begin to stroke from below.”
“Grant,” I hissed, looking up at him. “Why are you narrating everything I’m doing?”
A rare blush tinted his cheeks, and I realized I’d embarrassed him. His lips hitched up in a rueful smile. “I learn things faster when I speak out loud.”
I snorted, suppressing a laugh. “This isn’t the SATs.”
“I’m sorry,” Grant said. “When I become interested in something, I need to know everything about it.”
The question— did that sound romantic in your head— was poised on my lips, but I couldn’t ask it, because, honestly, it was starting to sound a little romantic to me. A sure sign Grant was getting in my head. “You’re beginning to make sense to me, and that worries me,” I said, and he laughed.
“I’ll be sexier,” he promised, but I hesitated. It felt weird now.
“Grant,” I protested, unsure.
He began to perfectly mimic my previous movements, edging around my clitoris. “I’m gonna start here, nice and slow, until you’re desperate for more.” Our fingers were moving as one now, finding my clit and stroking from underneath. My breaths were already coming quick, my eyes closed and head tipped back on his shoulder when he whispered, “What do you think about, Tessa?”
“You,” I choked out, and his pace quickened, copying the tiny circles I made over my clit.
His voice was low and gravelly in my ear. “Good. When you’re mine, you’re only mine.” He bit down on the flesh of my shoulder and I let out a low moan, my breaths coming so fast I was nearly panting. “You’re all I think about, Tess. I’ve relived every moment with you in my head. You’re my favorite fantasy.”
The orgasm hit with the force of a bomb detonating through my body, and I cried out, sagging against Grant as my body shook. I’d had powerful orgasms during sex before, but nothing even close to this from masturbating alone. I needed some sort of Grant-doll sex toy for daily use, because this was amazing. “Jesus, Grant.”
He kissed my temple. “You’re amazing, Tessa.”
Me? Christ. He was completely unselfconscious. I couldn’t remember a single day of my life when I wasn’t entirely aware of being Tessa Davis, the other sister. And though Grant said the wrong thing as often as not, he didn’t seem fazed by it. He was truly amazing.
“We still have to make all those light-up presents,” Grant said.
“Shit,” I muttered.